What We Didn't Know
by gelbestiefel
Summary: What it was about her, he didn't know, but she entrapped him, making him stray from his former ways. She too was mesmerized by him: never had she yearned for someone like she did for that particular man. With time, they mingle, but it only lasts so long, never could they have foreseen their two worlds clashing with such force. RaphxOC I don't own TMNT.
1. WWDK Chapter 1

The apartment was completely still right until they came crashing through the door, fumbling to keep their balance. It was a total frenzy: hands grasping anything they could, bodies crashing together. They were inseparable. Lips locked and hands roaming, it was complete bliss. That night had brought them both exactly what they were after: a way to let loose.

It was a cool New York evening. Ruth was making her way to the club, only a couple of blocks from her flat. Tonight, she had one goal: to find a nice piece of man and to fuck the living daylights out of him.

Even from outside, one could tell that the club was packed. Once she gained entrance, Ruth took note of the many writhing bodies pressed together and moving to the pulsing beat of the ever-present bass. The young woman glided through the crowd, heading to the bar to get her night started. After downing her first few shots, the fun could begin.

When in a drunken stupor, it is extremely easy to lose track of time, especially when that stupor is coupled with dancing and flirting with numerous individuals.

Ruth couldn't tell how long it had been, but she had had the time to flirt up a storm with quite a few young men in the dimly lit room. However, none of them were the perfect candidate for what she wanted. That was slowly discouraging her.

Resigned, she slipped to the bar area of the club to take a seat, sip at her drink and gaze at the ever-dancing beings enjoying themselves on the dance-floor.

Although it seemed impossible with the loud music blasting through the room, Ruth heard the bar stool next to her creak slightly as it protested against the weight of the person who had just sat down next to her. Sneaking a look, she took in the person's profile. His eyes weren't visible, but is high cheekbones, defined jaw touched by light stubble and strong nose told her that he was most definitely attractive. Little did she know, when she wasn't looking, the handsome male stole a few glances of his own.

He could tell, she was a catch. _Fuck, she's hot._ He thought. Her shoulder-length hair hid part of her face, but he could still make out a small nose, plump lips and expressive eyes. Those same eyes unexpectedly met his. He'd been caught. He didn't care though, because he was frozen. The moment his vibrant emerald green eyes met her stormy gray ones, time seemed to stop. Neither could look away, too transfixed.

 _He's perfect, at least when it comes to looks._ She thought, noticing the hint of a tattoo creeping up his neck.

"Weren't you ever told that staring is rude?" Ruth asked the good-looking young man.

"Of course, but I was also told to keep an eye on what I want," his deep voice replied smoothly, words laced with a faint brooklyn accent. Ruth could only blush at what he was implying.

"Well, big-boy, it's gonna take a little more than some smooth talking if you want this prize."

She winked at him.

"I wouldn't worry, princess, I'm sure I can handle whatever you throw at me."

He gave her a wicked look. Mr. self-righteous crossed his arms, his biceps clearly noticeable as they bulged, straining against the fabric of his long-sleeved shirt.

She couldn't help but feel even more flustered. _He's so god-damn smug; what a little shit. A_ hot _little shit._

The young woman had no idea what it was about him. Normally, she had no difficulties handling herself around flirtatious men, but this guy was an exception.

"So, do you want to get out of here? Or are you one of those people who like to do things publicly?" he asked. An ever-present smirk pulling at his lips, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"You're a conceited douche," she said with a smile as she gathered her things and beckoned for him to follow her. She had, after all, found what she had come for: a hot, willing hunk to bring to bed.

As he stalked after her to the exit, he couldn't help admiring her from behind as she sifted through the mass of dancing bodies: the soft way her hips swayed and her ass that was hugged by her tight jeans. He was already thinking of what he'd do to her later that night… _Jesus, get yourself together. You're acting like a prepubescent noob._ He scolded himself.

The short walk to Ruth's apartment was comfortably silent due mostly to the fact that they were both lost in thought. That silence was broken the moment they entered the elevator:

"I never caught your name… It might come in quite handy later..." he drawled mischievously.

"You're quite confident aren't you?" the young woman questioned,"I'm Ruth,"she told him.

"Raphael, but I prefer Raph."

"Well, _Raphael_ , I couldn't give a flying shit for your preferences," she replied with a small yet coquettish smile.

"Oh really? And why is that, _Ruth_?" he playfully jabbed at her, amused.

"Because I only need _you_ for one night," she declared in a rush as he slowly came closer.

She could see his eyes darkening with desire and knew her own only reflected his lustful expression. There was no hesitation, their eyes flashing with lust and their lips crashing together in a hungry kiss. Their hands were roaming, groping at whatever they could. Ruth's hooked around the back of Raphael's neck as his made their way to her ass, clutching at it and hoisting her up to hold her against the elevator wall. When the doors finally opened, her legs were wrapped around his waist and they were at war, tongues fighting for the upper-hand. Despite her efforts however, Ruth was fighting a losing battle: he was completely dominating her. She guided the handsome man to her flat. By some miracle and a healthy amount of fumbling, they made it inside, bodies and lips still pressed together, the sound of pleasured moans and groans filling the air

"This is amazing," Ruth gasped, out of breath. After the door had closed, he had quickly turned and pressed her against it, caging her much like he had in the elevator. In all her experience, making out had never been as intense and blissful as it was right then.

"Of course, you're with the best," Raph mumbled.

"Oh really? Prove it," She laughed, tilting her head back slightly and exposing even more of the soft flesh of her neck. The lustful man couldn't help himself; he bombarded her neck with pecks and light nips of her tender skin, causing her to moan. He took in her smell and got lost in it. He didn't understand why, but it's flowery tinge only made his desire grow.

By her request, he set her down which made him realise their difference in height: she only came up to his shoulder. _How cute, she's tiny._ He mused.

They stumbled to her bedroom, where they proceeded to continue locking lips and touching tongues. Raphael managed to slip off both their shirts, moving to work on her bra. He had to stop though, when he felt her hands roaming his naked torso, gliding over his broad chest and defined abs, tracing the numerous tattoos that splattered his upper body. The feeling of it all brought shivers to his spine.

"Fucking Lord, what are you _made_ of?" Ruth commented referring to the hard muscles under his skin. Her comment only had him chuckling against her neck as he distracted her with more kisses and returned to taking off the rest of her garments. Now completely nude before him, he couldn't help but stare at her figure, almost growling in approval. Out of all the woman he'd been with, he'd never seen one more perfect than Ruth. She had a certain firmness hidden under those subtle curves and soft skin.

He didn't waste any more time. He gently pushed her onto her bed and began to explore her body; his hands massaging her breasts and his mouth soon following to attend to her nipples. The moans that escaped her and the feeling of her nails digging into his shoulders only added to his excitement as he continued to lavish her with affection, hovering over her.

She wouldn't let him have all the fun though. Her hands abandoned his body to reach down to grope his throbbing erection through his jeans, causing him to moan lightly. _Why are these not off yet?_ She thought. Taking action, she started working on his belt, fumbling with the buckle, but finally succeeding. Freeing his cock, she wrapped her hand around his thick girth, making him groan against her skin. Suppressing his urge, he said: "Just so you know, my safe word is _keep going._ "

He could only smirk as he saw the desire flash in her eyes. At his words, Ruth knew that she would most definitely get the night she had been wishing for and that the cocky fucker would probably live up to his promise of being the best.


	2. WWDK Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The light streaming through the bedroom window was what shook Raphael from his deep sleep. Trying to turn to block it out, he found himself incapable to; something pressed against him was hindering his movement. _What the fuck?_ He thought, slowly cracking open his eyes and squinting against the intense daylight. His mind was progressively beating the sleepy daze that didn't seem to want to leave. Somehow, he came to the realisation that he wasn't in his own bed. _Where the fuck am I?_ His brows furrowed in confusion.

Gradually, memories from the previous night flashed through his mind: the quarrel with his brother, getting shit-faced at the club, girls rubbing up against him, taking a break and sitting down at the bar and _her._ Understanding hit him like a brick. Ripping his eyes open, his sleepy hangover haze replaced by a sudden rush of clarity, his gaze locked onto the head of blonde hair resting on the pillow next to him. _So... That happened._ Raphael couldn't help but smirk to himself as he relaxed and let the images of the previous night's many adventures fly through his mind. _Definitely one of my top three lays._ He thought as he recalled the immense pleasure he had felt quite a few times that night.

 _Well, better get the hell out before she wakes up._ He told himself, slowly untangling his body from her form and the sheets that surrounded him. He got up and stretched, hands almost hitting the high ceiling. Raph looked around the room, taking in the simple decor in the daylight.

He didn't have any trouble locating his clothes that were messily strewn across the floor.

It was as he was buckling his belt that he heard the sheets rustle. Raphael froze like a deer in headlights; the last thing he wanted was for Ruth to wake up while he was still in the room.

If she did, he would have to talk to her; questions would be asked and information divulged… The thought rattled him. It just wasn't how Raphael rolled; his philosophy always being to get in and out, no strings attached, no questions asked.

He slowly turned to look at the still sleeping woman, now sprawled across the bed. Relieved, he returned to his former position, retrieving his shirt from the floor.

When the comfortable warmth and the feeling of strong arms wrapped around her body disappeared, Ruth couldn't help but wake from her profound sleep. She hadn't slept that well in a while even though it had been quite an active night. She slowly stretched across the bed before stilling again, never opening her eyes in hopes of falling back asleep. However, the thoughts of tumbling back into unconsciousness were ditched when she heard her wood floors groan slightly as someone moved across them. _Who's in my flat?_

She let her eyes fall open to sneak a peek. Her attention was instantaneously caught by the tall, broad man, momentarily bending over to retrieve, what she was assuming was his shirt, from the floor. Although he had his back to her, her brain registered: _Raphael._ Her brain also took note of his muscular shoulders flexing to pull the shirt down over the many tattoos that covered his tan skin. However, before she could take in anything else, his form was hidden as his shirt now sat correctly on his powerful frame. _He had been a force to reckon with last night and had_ definitely _kept his promise._ She mused, a smile coming to her lips as those memories came back to her. _So rough, yet somehow gentle and passionate._

She kept observing him, the daylight letting her take in the dark auburn colour of his flowy hair. As he made his way to her bedroom door, she had to ask:

"Leaving so soon?"

 _Shit._ Raphael tensed, mentally cursing as she addressed him. Turning to her, he answered:

"You know, busy day, gotta get to work…" He gave her a small smirk. Actually, it was his day off, but she didn't have to know that.

"Well, that's a shame, I was thinking you would be up for round two," she drawled with a small smile, sitting up with the sheets tightly wrapped around her curvy frame.

"Fucking hell," Raphael whispered to himself, making her chuckle. It was hard to resist the proposition, especially when those words, and the innocent yet sensual way she said them, were already spurring on his imagination and getting his blood flowing. _Fuck._ He wanted to stay, but he wouldn't change his ways and she would not be an exception.

"Look, princess, I've really got to go, but next time, I'll make sure to clear my schedule for you." He announced with a wink, fully knowing there would never be a _next time._

He slipped through the door before she could reply, glad that he got out of that situation before he would regret it.

After staring at the door for a few minutes, Ruth finally got up, stripping her bed before taking a shower and getting ready for work. She had a feeling that that night would be difficult to forget, especially when she couldn't seem to shake the emerald eyes from her mind.

Raphael made his way out of the apartment and onto the busy New York streets. Locating the nearest subway station, he quickly made his way to the underground. A few terminals over, he swiftly slipped into a maintenance corridor, leading him to the abandoned tunnels that would bring him home.

Entering the renovated warehouse he and his family called home through the underground entrance, he took in where everyone was. As usual, Mikey was lounging in the TV area, reading comics. He didn't see the others, so he assumed they were either in the dojo, or in Donnie's lab.

The younger brother's baby blue eyes momentarily left his story to flit to his sibling, acknowledging his arrival: "Raph! You're back! Small warning: Leo's pissed at you for going out last night." Snickering, the young blonde turned back to his comic, letting his impulsive brother dwell on his words.

Raph merely grunted his response as he stalked to his room. Only a few steps from his door, a voice stopped him. He didn't have to look to know who it was. _Amazing fucking timing, Leo._

"So, where have you been, Raph?" the oldest brother inquired with forced lightness.

"What's it to you?" Raphael retorted dryly.

"As your brother, I'm concerned with your well-being," after a small pause, Leonardo, clearly fed up, added, "And you can't just take off after an argument, Raph. What if something happened to you?"

Raph loved Leo, he was, after all, his brother. Nevertheless, sometimes, the sound of that _god-damned,_ _too_ -calm and authoritative voice was all it took to make the hot-head's temper flare.

"Will you listen to yourself? Are you really trying to tell _me_ , a _22 year-old man_ , to come home for bedtime?" Raph scoffed, not wanting to deal with his brother's lectures.

"Raph, that's not the point, we need to stick together-"

"For what? So we can bond over crappy TV shows and Monopoly? I'm not fuckin' havin' it, Leo," Raph declared, sneering. Angry green eyes bored into the other's ocean blue ones. Momentarily intimidated by Raphael's exploding animosity, and somewhat hurt by his words, Leonardo let the ordeal drop, turning his back to the taller brother, dismissing him.

 _Why is he always like that? Why is he so angry?_ Leo had to ask himself as he shot a small frown at Mikey, who had pretended to ignore the whole occurrence.

Both of them jumped when they heard Raph's door slam.

"Dude, just let it drop. How can you not understand that neither of you are going to change? Just accept that and move on, man," Mikey advised.

Leonardo didn't stick around to answer, heading towards the dojo to meditate instead.

He hated that he and Raph never seemed to get along. Even when they were little, they always clashed yet Leonardo had never completely worked out or understood why.

Raphael finally found himself alone, in his room, where he tugged off his shirt and swapped his jeans for a pair of black joggers. _Everything was going so well: I had a fucking brilliant night, got out almost unnoticed, was actually content when I got home... All until fucking Leo had to open his God-forsaken mouth._ The young adult grumbled to himself. He fell onto his bed, where he let himself relax as much as he could. Losing track of time, he fell into a light sleep. Weirdly, the last things he remembered before succumbing to the unconsciousness were a vaguely familiar small nose, plump lips and expressive eyes.


	3. WWDK Chapter 3

Raphael woke up in a groggy manner, taking his time to let the after-a-nap daze pass. Checking his clock, he realized that it was now 12PM. He had slept for a good two hours. Slowly sitting up, he wiped the remaining sluggishness from his mind by rubbing his eyes; a bad habit of his.

After listening to a symphony of growls and gurgles coming from his very hungry stomach, the hot-head let his feet lead him to the kitchen, from where the scent of food was wafting in tons. Mikey was cooking God knows what, but it smelled delicious.

"Bro, you look like you were just trampled by a stampede, what happened?" Mikey asked.

Raph, who hadn't bothered with a shirt, had no idea what his youngest brother was referring to. He sent him a look that transferred his confusion.

"The marks all over your body, Raph," Mikey told him as if he were blind.

"They're called tattoos Mikey, I've had them for a while..." Raphael still wasn't catching what his brother was referencing.

Before Mikey could reply, Donnie joined them and instantly spotted what his sibling had prior to him.

"Woah Raph, who gave you those? The scratches on your shoulders almost make it look like you fought a rabid lynx," the intellectual stated matter-of-factly.

Realisation donned on Raphael; he sprinted to his room almost knocking down the door in his haste. His brothers chuckled at his urgency.

 _That motherfucker._ He thought as he looked at himself as best he could in his small mirror. He hadn't noticed it, but his last evening's accomplice had all but signed her name on his body. _Jesus Christ._ He mumbled to himself as he turned, taking in the scratches along his back that Donnie had mentioned. What wasn't already covered in ink most certainly was by small bruises. His neck, shoulders and back definitely carried the brunt of it; he didn't even want to think of the rest.

"Fuck." He cursed, resigned.

Pulling on yet another long-sleeved shirt, he returned to the kitchen.

His brothers could only regard him with barely contained smiles before they burst out laughing.

"Well you've been having fun," Mikey cackled, along with Donnie who only added:

"Yeah, so who's the lucky girl you had at your mercy _this_ time?"

His brothers teased him, fully knowing that, contrary to what one may believe, Raph hated being interrogated on his _exploits._

"And what tells you that these aren't from combat, you numbnuts?"

"Your reaction," Donnie responded smugly, "And anyways, there are different kinds of bruises out there, Raph, it's not that hard to tell them apart."

"Busted," whispered the youngest brother before cowering under the dangerous gaze held by the green eyes that locked onto his.

"You better run, Mikey, 'cause I'm gonna beat you so hard you'll end up in the beginning of next week."

"What about Donnie?" the young prankster asked, mildly panicked.

"Oh, don't worry about him, he'll get his turn," Raph explained, grabbing at his youngest sibling.

Work was a complete drag. Today, business was extremely slow at retro diner Ruth was employed at as a waitress. When she thought of it, she may have only served about 20 clients during her whole 12-hour shift. Yupp, she had been stupid enough to take on that shift, thinking that it would bring her in some extra cash, but she had been oh-so wrong; it was draining the life from her.

She had come in to work at 11AM, right after showering and dressing. Much like her conspirator, she too had been shocked at the many blemishes that covered her body. From the small bruises on her neck, stomach and breasts to the hand-shaped blotches on her thighs and hips, she had taken quite the while to cover them with makeup.

"Well, my time has come and I'm heading the hell home," Ruth's coworker, Ann, declared.

"Bye Ruth! Try not to die of boredom."

The plump woman, who had replaced the blue dress they were required to wear with comfier street clothes, made her way the exit.

After calling out her goodbye, Ruth returned to the task she had been occupying herself with: filling the depleted salt and pepper shakers. She momentarily glanced at her wrist watch, calculating that she had about an hour to go before it was 11PM and she could finally leave work.

The mundane project wasn't helping her distract herself from the thoughts or, more specifically, the person plaguing her mind all day. As she'd predicted, the green eyes were hard to shake from her mental attention. For what reason, she had no idea, but whatever it was, she didn't like that it was pulling at her focus.

It was as she was nearing her final pair of shakers that the young woman heard the bell chime, indicating that a new customer had entered the small restaurant. _Finally something to divert myself with._

Storing away her supplies, she went to greet the new arrival. She realized that he was a tall asian man, maybe in his mid-sixties. Although he seemed somewhat familiar, she was positive that she had never seen him there before. Then again, on busy days, unlike that day, all the faces she saw seemed to mash up, making it hard to remember anyone at all; maybe he'd already been to the diner before.

She took his order: herbal tea, the last piece of strawberry-rhubarb pie and today's newspaper.

As he spoke, she took note of his accented words and lack of wrinkles. Maybe she'd judged him too quickly… He could easily be twenty years younger than her first assumption. The thought was lost as she promised to be back with his order in a few minutes.

The man kindly thanked her as she gently sat his order down on the table.

"Enjoy your meal," she said with a friendly smile, before returning to the counter and continuing with her remaining tasks.

As she cleaned glasses, she couldn't help but let her eyes flit to her only customer. The man held a certain aura of wisdom, sagacity and kindness, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that if you crossed him, you would regret it. Then again, he seemed quite harmless, secluded in his booth, munching on pie and sipping at his tea all while reading the paper.

A few minutes later, Ruth strode over to his table, picking up his empty plate and asking if he would like more tea.

"Yes, that would be fine, thank you," he answered.

"No problem!" she told him, quickly brewing some more and serving the steaming beverage. "So, anything interesting in the news?" she asked, only trying to be polite.

"Yes, one of my sons is in the paper," he explained, surprising her, "He has a brilliant mind and has been working on some ingenious projects for some time now. Thanks to his professors, one of his ideas made the news," the man continued, smiling.

"You must be very proud of him," she stated the obvious. It was clear that this man was proud of his son, it was flashing like fireworks in his dark eyes.

"Yes, my heart fills with joy when he, or any of my sons, accomplishes something they were envisioning."

The wise man was grinning; Ruth couldn't help but crack a small smile of her own, although it hurt. She remembered her father grinning proudly at her and how one day, that had all changed.

"Are you alright?" she heard her client ask. The question brought her out of the hazy memory. Her smile had morphed into a small frown. This was not the time to think of how screwed up her upbringing had been.

"What? Oh, yes, I'm fine, I just drew a blank, sorry," Ruth struggled with her words a little; the man didn't seem convinced.

"So, you have more sons?" She gawkily asked, trying to change the subject. The man saw right through her tactic, but played along nonetheless.

"Yes, I have four sons that I love very dearly."

The conversation was closed. With the uncomfortable atmosphere building up, the man asked for his bill. Ruth scurried to go print it out. As soon as she knew it, he had paid and was now gone.

Sighing heavily at the awkward encounter, she glanced at the clock, noting that she could now close the diner and go home. She quickly counted the cash and cleaned up anything that wasn't in its place. Having prepared to close up earlier, she was done in a matter of minutes. After storing away the money, locking the front door and closing all the lights, Ruth exited by the back entrance that locked automatically. The owner of the small restaurant, a friend of her mother's, trusted the young waitress enough to handle shutting the diner without any hiccups.

The young woman walked the streets at a brisk pace, trying to get home as quickly as possible. Luckily, her flat was only a couple of blocks away. As she walked, she realised that she had taken the same route to her apartment with Raphael as they were walking there together not even 24 hours prior. Ruth remembered the silence that had reigned as they made their way; she remembered that it hadn't been awkward, but comfortable… The woman pushed those musings aside; she needed to get home to concentrate and to prepare for the remainder of her night. Then only would she be able clock-in for her actual line of work.


	4. WWDK Chapter 4

The brothers ran through the night, vaulting and jumping over the rooftops like shadows. That was the best way to describe them, each being clad in their own shinobi shozoku, customized to their liking and blending into the dark backdrop of the night.

They flit over the city, looking for whatever trouble they could, or rather couldn't find.

"Let's just give it up, dudes, nothing special is happening tonight," Mikey complained from his position, sitting on the small structure that housed the inner stairwell of the high-rise. After a solid three hours of stunting over the many buildings and failing to stumble upon any mishaps he was quite discouraged.

Currently, they were taking a small break on a rooftop of a complex overlooking the city. Each of them had made themselves as comfortable as possible: Leo was perched on the ledge of the building, always staying alert; Donatello wasn't far behind him, seeming to contemplate Mikey's proposition and Raphael was leaning against the wall of the modest structure.

"Let's give it a few more minutes, Mikey, something may turn up," explained Leo.

Raph snorted at that, clearly not believing that he would actually see any action that night.

Hearing his husky brother's miffed response, the young leader decided to prod him. He turned away from the ledge, looking at said brother.

"Do you have somewhere to be, Raph?" asked the eldest son.

Yes, Leonardo knew what Raph had been up to the night before. He had spotted the small bruises along his brother's neck when he had asked him where he had been. "Perhaps, you have _someone_ to meet?"

"Stay out of it, Fearless," Raph warned, using the nickname Leonardo resented.

Although his green eyes were cloaked, Leo could only imagine the annoyance starting to brew in his brother's gaze; he could clearly hear it in his gruff tone. That same annoyance urged him to spur his brother even more. He knew it was stupid, but he just couldn't let go as he'd done earlier.

"So you do have someone waiting. What are you gonna do with this one? Screw her and leave just like all those other girls you've been with?" Leonardo assumed that whatever woman Raph had seen the night before surely wasn't the only one he'd met up with.

Raph, leaving his stance by the wall, advanced on his leader.

"Drop it, Leo."

"Why? Why don't you ever tell us anything? You're always gone! You know how important it is for us to stick together, especially these last few months! Your past disappearing acts were definitely not appreciated."

"What does it matter to you, Leo? You only ever do what you're told to; the perfect fucking pet! How can you not crave some kind of liberty?"

"Oh, so your take on liberty is to vanish ever so often so you can go hook up with whatever chick bats her eyes at you?"

Mikey and Donnie couldn't help but gape at their leader: why was he egging Raph on like that? Did he have a death wish? How daft could he be?

"You better be fucking careful, Leo, 'cause I won't hesitate to knock some God-damned sense into you," Raphael threatened, invading his brother's personal space, pushing up to him and glowering down at him.

"Try it." was the leader's response.

Before anything could happen, Donnie interrupted them:

"Guys, do you see that?"

He had spotted a figure moving swiftly across the rooftops just as they had been doing a few minutes prior. The lanky young man was glad that his observation had put an end his two older brother's heated confrontation. He really didn't want their argument to get to the point of physical violence; from what he'd observed, he knew that it had been on the brink of becoming an all-out brawl.

The rest of the team looked to what held his gaze, quickly seeing what Donatello was.

The distraction reined in Raph's anger, cooling his temper.

"That can't be Casey, they're too fast," he mused, seeing the figure moving over the roofs and thinking of his hockey-stick-wielding, vigilante best friend.

Leonardo pulled out his binoculars, hoping to get a better visual of the mystery person; his mind had also been taken off of the altercation.

"Well, they have quite the artillery with them so they can't be up to any good," he observed, only being able to spot the long cannon of the rifle strapped to the person's back that was jutting past their shoulder.

"Let's find out who they are then," Raph voiced, relieved that tonight would finally bring him some kind of way to let loose.

His brain had tormented him all day: he just hadn't been able to get that little lynx of a woman and all the things he still wanted to do to her out of his head. It was obviously not a normal occurrence: usually, his hookups were forgotten with effortless ease; this, however, was another case entirely. Maybe it was because he was constantly reminded of their encounter whenever he looked in the mirror, or the fact that she had been so sensual and responsive and that his imagination kept conjuring wickedly savorous images. Hell, she'd even asked for round two. All he wanted was to meet her and definitely _do_ her again... _No Raph!_ He scolded himself. You _don't do second encounters. That's never been, and never will be_ you _._

Leonardo hadn't objected to Raphael's proposition of going after the person, so they set out on their newest mission, leaping over alleyways and dodging ventilation systems. They slowly caught up; their speed greater than their newest rival's.

Now only a few hundred feet away, the brothers could see that the figure was completely clad in black, a hood covering the back of their head; unrecognisable. More alarming, however, was the hulking sniper rifle secured to their back.

"Guys, what do you think they're gonna do with that?" Asked the youngest brother, referring to the gun. His words were laced with slight worry. He knew the answer, but didn't want it confirmed.

"Obviously, they're going to shoot something or someone from a great distance." Donatello answered him blatantly, "They may have already done just that."

"And that's exactly why we have to catch them." Leo spoke, urging his brothers on.

How, they didn't know, but the hooded figure seemed to notice that they were being followed, so they accelerated their pace.

"Shit," Cursed Leo, "They know we're onto them. Raph, Mikey, flank them, Don and I will keep the rear. We're gonna try to corner them."

With nods, the impulsive and the mellow brother fell away to do as asked, each taking their own side. Slowly but surely, the brothers managed to enclose the individual, almost like herding sheep. Seeing his chance, Raphael eventually covered the space between his own form and the figure's. At an arm's-length away, he rugby-tackled them from the side, causing them both to crash onto the concrete of the roof they had been running on. The jarring impact elicited grunts from both parties.

Not even seconds after, Raphael and the culprit were back to their feet. The hooded form rolling away before gracefully flipping up, putting several meters between themself and Raphael. They were perching on the ledge of the building, their back to their pursuers and ready to jump, but visibly balking.

After having caught up and regrouped, the four brothers took offensive stances, drawing their weapons and readying themselves to fight the masked man.

"Who are you and what are your intentions?" inquired the young leader of the team.

The figure didn't give an answer. Instead, they seemed to evaluate a possible escape plan. However, the brothers had been successful in cornering them since the building they were currently on looked out onto a vast park; the culprit had nowhere to run to. Realising this, the dark form slowly turned to the team of four, coolly hopping off the ledge, but keeping a safe distance.

As the figure faced them, the brothers were able to discern what exactly they were dealing with. The nonchalance and lack of worry the person seemed to convey were quite agitating, almost as much as the abundance of weapons strapped to their body. Along with the rifle on their back, there was a bullet belt slung over the figure's right shoulder; a few of the glistening slugs were missing, which was rather disconcerting. Over the left shoulder, hung a holster that glistened with the handles of the numerous throwing knives and daggers that were strapped to it. There was a similar set-up on the masked rifleman's right thigh. What the brothers couldn't see, however, were the thin yet resistant metal plates and compact canisters of CS gas, that were ready to be released: the figure's actual armour and extra ordnance, hidden under baggy black clothing.

Although intimidating, the individual's get-up was nothing compared to the unsettling mask that sat on their face: the small central filter almost gave the impression of a hound's muzzle. The sunken-in cheek cavities reminded one of a barren skull. The blood-red, opaque visor only transferred a gruelling, lifeless and cold gaze. The whole ensemble screamed "leave me be or you will regret it".

Leonardo, ignoring his instincts and continuing on his personal defiant streak of the night, questioned for the second time:

"I'm asking you again: who are you, and what are your intentions?"

"That is none of your concern."

Although the gas mask muffled the person's response, it was clear that their warped tone was final; the earlier nonchalance and easiness had disappeared and was now replaced by a tense, outset posture, ready to pounce and attack at any moment.

The leader didn't know what to make of the situation, they had the person outnumbered and trapped, yet he didn't feel as confident as he usually was.

"Look, we're not looking for any violence," he heard two people scoff at that: Raph, naturally and, more surprisingly, the culprit, "We're just trying to keep civilians safe. _You_ look like you're taking on an army one-handedly, so don't tell me you're up to any good."

"Yet in your hands you hold weapons of your own, how hypocritical," observed the figure, making a clear point and having noted the different munitions each team member possessed.

"Woah, he got ya there, Leo," bantered the youngest brother not being able to help himself.

"That's not helping, Mikey," was Leonardo's dry answer.

"Enough of this shit! Who are you and what the fuck are you doing here?" Raphael demanded, taking a step towards the form. His patience was wearing thin.

 _Someone has a temper…_ Thought the rifleman before answering and slowly receding back to the building's ledge:

"There really is a paradox in asking a masked-man who they are, don't you think?" taunted the deep, awry voice emanating from the mask. "Anyhow, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have unresolved matters waiting." With that, the individual was gone, having tipped themself over the ridge.

A chorus of curses followed as the brothers quickly ran to the edge of the building, looking down and trying to locate where the dark figure had fallen to. There was no one in sight.


	5. WWDK Chapter 5

_What the actual fuck just happened?_ The figure asked themself as they paced the random, secluded rooftop they had retreated to after escaping the four men. All had been going according to plan: find the target, kill them, stay unnoticed. Well, that last part hadn't exactly been a success…

They sat down on the ledge, pondering on how bizarre that encounter had been, not to mention the odd, masked men that had trapped them.

 _Who were those guys, and what were they_ wearing _?_ The assassin had recognized the traditional combat ensemble covering their frames, but what put them off was how the team of four covered their faces. It was effective, yet so rudimentary: the bandana-like cloths that covered their mouths and noses weren't at all uniform; the masked individual recalled that one of their assailants, the shortest one, had printed a money's maw on his orange cover, which was rather callow. However, even more bizarre was the fact that those goons covered their heads with black fisherman beanies and their eyes with different pairs of sunglasses. _Like… What the fuck? Who does that?_ Although it wasn't exactly chic, they had to admit that it did hold a certain aesthetic.

Baffled, the young killer stood, deciding that they'd had enough excitement for one night. _And to think that those twits almost had me…_ If the figure hadn't recognized the open window from the building they were cornered on, and filed it as a last resort when they had been checking their escape options, they would've been caught. They knew that they couldn't take on all four men without arousing too much suspicion, so their best chance had been to run and hide, especially when the skills of the figure's assailants were still unknown.

As they hobbled home, the rifleman groaned at the pain that was already settling into their bones. _The big one got me real good when he fucking lunged and threw me to the God-damned floor._ They grumbled, slowly making their way across the roofs, staying alert to any danger. It was going to be a long walk back to the safehouse.

After the unexpected encounter, the brothers had also retreated to their warehouse home. They too had been quite shaken by the occurrence, mostly by the brash exit made by the mysterious individual: they had vanished into thin air. Following the masked figure's escape, the brothers had searched the surrounding buildings, but it was to no avail; they'd missed their chance.

Their returning journey had been silent, each pondering the defeat. It was only as they trekked the abandoned subway tunnels that they began voicing their thoughts:

"Dudes, whoever that person was, he's seriously mental," Mikey broke the silence.

"You're telling me… How did they just disappear like that? I don't know how that was even possible..." Donnie contemplated.

"Well, whoever they were, they're clearly dangerous and they really didn't seem like they were up to any good," the leader stated, "We'll probably be seeing them around again."

"You mean _he,_ they have to be a guy for that level of creepiness. Not to mention, they were quite bulky," Mikey spoke, revealing his opinion to his brothers.

"I wouldn't be so quick to judge, Mikey, anyone can throw on baggy clothes to hide their shape and women can be quite creepy too," the lanky brother reasoned.

Raphael, staying silent, recalled the feeling of grappling the person to the ground. He remembered his slight surprise when wrapping his arms around the person's waist and finding it to be rather narrow. Come to think of it, the masked figure hadn't been too hard to bring down because they weren't very heavy; the garments they wore must've hidden more than one could think.

"They're a woman," Raphael affirmed, "I'm sure of it."

"How can you be so certain?" Leo asked sceptically.

"Because of how they felt when I tackled them," Raphael explained, only noticing how weird it sounded after having said it.

"Oh, and of course, _you_ can tell that it was a woman's shape so easily," Mikey sniggered.

"Yes, _I_ can, is there anything wrong with that, _Mikey_?" Raph inquired with a slightly threatening undertone.

"Not at all, not at all, it just proves your knowledge of a woman's anatomy," replied the youngest sibling.

 _God, that kid is weird._ Raph thought to himself before dismissing the subject:

"Whatever."

Silence once again reigned as they walked to their home.

The team reached the hidden entrance to the warehouse, piling through the door and making their way to their respective rooms, each exhausted from the night's activities. Quite drained, Raphael removed his hat, red-lensed glasses and dark shemagh scarf before taking off his combat outfit and slipping into his bed. Although he was tired, sleep didn't come to him as easily as it should've: whenever he closed his eyes, he saw and almost felt the figure, their sinister mask, their plethora of weapons and their eerie, mendacious aura.

None of those traits destabilized or intimidated Raphael, they rather intrigued him; he wanted to know who it was behind the dark gas mask and ruby, mirrored visor. Those thoughts kept the rugged young man up, lying in his bed, the covers haphazardly strewn across his sculpted body. Hours later, his mind finally caved and submitted to the creeping exhaustion.

When morning came, Raphael was lacking the sleep he had been chasing. He grumbled as his alarm shrilled, but still got up and ready; he had to be at work in a little over an hour.

After getting ready, he made his way to the hulking office building. As usual, he greeted his colleagues before making his way to his office and sitting at his large desk.

It was all still very new to him: the suits, the offices, the responsibilities and the fact that he was the youngest official there. He'd been with the same construction company for a few years now, starting as a normal labourer on the construction sites yet, he'd always wanted to become more. So, he earned his Masters of Business and Management at NYU, taking evening courses to keep working during the day. Luckily, his brothers had been supportive and hadn't minded if, instead of scouring the city for criminals, he studied to receive his degree.

Now, having shown his potential and earning a hefty promotion, he was at corporate, working as one of the financial managers. Of course he wasn't "top of the line" yet, but he would get there one day.

Although it didn't seem like his kind of occupation, Raphael did enjoy his office job and the field he was working in. The only thing that sometimes set him off though were the looks people gave him: starting as a blue collar and then donning a white one, and at such a young age, wasn't always accepted by some of the company's traditionalists.

Before he knew it, his day had ended and he was heading back home, leather laptop bag slung over his shoulder. As he made his way, he walked past a certain retro diner. He couldn't help but glance at what was happening inside: waitresses were bustling and carting food and drinks all over, of course, it was nearing dinner time, so they were quite occupied. Through the whole chaotic conundrum, he spotted her. She was wearing a blue uniform, smiling at customers sitting at a booth by the window as she took their order and answered their questions enthusiastically.

It was as another pedestrian bumped into him that he realised that he had stopped walking to look at her through the restaurant's front windows.

"Sorry," Raphael excused himself when the person gave him a dirty look for just standing there. The young business man couldn't seem to move away though: he was rooted to the sidewalk, transfixed.

 _Ruth._ Although he knew it was her, he still read it on the name tag pinned to her uniform. He kept watching, taking in the way her blonde hair stuck slightly to her face, the way her cheeks were flushed due to exertion, the way her eyes lit up when she smiled… He'd never seen someone so perfect. Raphael was run into again, which caused him to stumble slightly before regaining his footing. Another dirty look was sent his way.

From her position, Ruth caught the movement in front of the glass panes that separated her from the outside. In a matter of moments, her eyes caught the ones belonging to the person on the other side. Once again emerald and ash clashed as their gazes held one another's and time seemed to still. Despite her initial surprise in actually seeing the ruggedly handsome man again, all Ruth could think of was how good he looked in a suit.

Not knowing what to do, she simply smiled, acknowledging him. _Wait, how long has he been there?_ As the thought came to her she frowned slightly, looking away. It wasn't like she could talk to him and ask him unless he came and took a seat in the diner.

 _What am I doing?_ Raphael thought, confused as to why he was standing there and staring at her. He watched her flush slightly and look away. He took that as his chance to escape the awkward situation. The confused man ripped his gaze from the waitress before quickly picking up his stride and leaving.

When Ruth looked back up, Raphael was gone. _Did that even happen, or did I dream it?_ She too was quite perplexed by the bizarre encounter. _That_ had _been him… right? I didn't just imagine Raphael standing there..._ Ruth mulled over this, debating whether it had been real or just a figment of her imagination: the husky man had been on her mind ever since his hasty exit from her apartment, which could explain her practically hallucinating him... Whatever it was that had happened, she pushed it to the back of her mind to worry about it later; she still had work to do.


	6. WWDK Chapter 6

About a week had passed since the odd staring showdown at the diner and Ruth wasn't feeling any more confident about her situation: all she could think of was _him._ She hated it. Whenever she tried to focus on something, his perfect smirk, charming eyes and handsome face jumbled her thoughts. Yupp, she was going insane because she had developed a major crush. _What am I, a twelve year-old? Who the fuck has a_ crush? Ruth continuously tried to convince herself that she had imagined him, telling herself that she had been exhausted that day, that Raphael didn't seem like the kind of man to wear a suit to work, that if he were really there, he would have come inside to greet her... Frustration gnawed at her; she had to get her mind off a certain man and the best way she knew how to do that was to simply find another.

After her day at work, the young woman spent quite some time slaving in front of her mirror, applying makeup and trying on several outfits. Tonight, she had plans to go out to a club to, for once and for all, get her mind off of Raphael.

For Raphael, the last few days had also been quite the torment; not only did he and his brothers not have any success finding the mysterious, masked assassin, but a certain waitress in blue had constantly plagued his mind. The latter certainly didn't make his life easier, it was extremely difficult for him to concentrate: at work, he wasn't being nearly as productive and, when training and sparring with his brothers, he was, for once, getting his ass handed to him, which didn't go unnoticed by his siblings.

"What's up Raph? You don't normally suck this much," Mikey had commented at one point during a training session as he and Raphael were duelling.

"Fuck off, Mikey," the older brother replied roughly. His temper had also been much harder to contain as of late, which led to higher tensions between he and siblings.

"Woah, calm down, man, I didn't mean it seriously."

"Yeah, Raph, we're just joking around a little," Donnie voiced, having had his own fun some time prior when he'd nailed his burly brother in the back with his bo staff. "Seriously, are you alright though? You seem... distracted." The concern was evident in the gaunt brother's hazel eyes. They had all noticed Raphael's change in character; his timely absences had been more frequent than usual and his fuse was awfully short, even for him.

"I'm fine, just had a long week, that's all," Raphael deflected, not wanting to worry his brothers in any way. His earlier swell of anger had dwelled slightly and he was already thinking somewhat clearer. Countless minutes of strict katas dragged on before the brothers took a break.

"I'm done," Raph stated. He had had a long day at work, a certain account was causing trouble and he was struggling to find the original problem. That, coupled with endless hours of training, only added to his initial exhaustion. The young warrior started towards the exit, but Leonardo's words stopped him:

"No you're not, training isn't over, Raph."

Raphael paused his retreat.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Raph, we're not done training and I expect you to contribute." The leader's voice was firm, commanding. Usually, Raphael would have pushed himself to continue for his brother's sakes, but extreme fatigue was gnawing at him and causing irritation to swell inside him like a closing tide that flooded whatever grasp he still had on himself.

"How funny: you _still_ think you can tell me what to do," Raphael scoffed turning back towards the dojo's exit to leave.

"You know what, Raph? I can see why you were such a disappointment to Splinter, you have no respect or concern for others," Leonardo said.

The words halted Raphael in his tracks. Not only that, but his anger was once again burning. That statement had crossed an all too obvious line, a line that was like a tripwire, reaching a forgotten region, buried deep within Raphael's mind and triggering a reaction he could not control.

"You constantly blow up! Your anger has cost us countless takedowns! Who knows, maybe, if you hadn't yelled at that masked freak earlier this week, they wouldn't have fled and we could have stopped them!" Leonardo was now ranting mercilessly hitting Raphael with words of disgust and loathing. The latter was taking in every syllable, term and phrase; his back was to his yelling brother and his shoulders heaved with the deep breaths he took to try and rein in his fury. Each sound the young leader uttered only added fuel to the fire brewing behind the madcap's green eyes and surging under his skin.

Until now, the two younger siblings had been watching the ordeal unfold from the sidelines. Both were taken aback by the insults continuously spewing from Leonardo like a volcano erupting. They couldn't let it go on much longer: by the looks of it, Raphael was struggling to keep himself in check. Donatello tried reasoning with their leader:

"Leo, this is going too far-"

"And you want to know what's even worse? You're a coward, Raph."

"Leo, stop," Michelangelo tried, grasping his brother's arm.

"You hide everything behind a facade of anger, but deep down, all you are is _weak_."

"Leonardo!" Donnie yelled, finally stopping his oldest sibling's tirade.

"What?" The leader snapped at him, still panting from his rant and ripping his arm from Mikey's grip.

"Stop it," the lanky brother silently whispered before letting his eyes wander back to Raphael. Leonardo and Michelangelo followed suit. All eyes were now turned to said brother, who slowly moved to face Leonardo. His eyes were ablaze like raging infernos devastating all that was in their path. He looked like he was ready to murder whoever crossed him, and in this case, it had been Leonardo.

Michelangelo, took in his sibling's expression and what he saw frightened him. Since Mikey could remember, Raphael's anger had manifested itself in many ways, but never had he seen all sensibility leave his gaze. His eyes were dark and relentless, eyes that the younger man didn't recognize. Raphael's chest heaved with every shallow breath that filled his lungs and the skin of his bare torso still gleamed with the sheen of sweat from the earlier exertion. He looked like a bull, no humanity, only raw animal, ready to charge at the bullfighter ... and that is exactly what happened.

It was merely a matter of seconds. Before anyone could register what was occuring, Raphael drove Leonardo against the wall, his large hands wrapped tightly around his sibling's neck, pressing down with unyielding force. However, knowing that Leonardo could easily break that hold, he threw his leader to the ground like a rag doll, following him down and pinning him. Raphael started to deliver consecutive blows to his older brother's head, leaving him no chance at retaliation. The victim's arms instinctively shot up to protect his face. Distantly, Raphael heard shouts, but the words didn't reach him, his rage tunneling his focus to the person, the bullfighter, currently at his mercy.

"Is this weak to you? Is this cowardly?" Raphael challenged with a low growl as he kept ruthlessly hitting his brother, his anger blinding him. He had finally snapped.

Suddenly, two pairs of hands gripped Raphael's large shoulders and ripped him off of his adversary causing him to tumble back. After Mikey and Donnie's initial shock had worn off; they had sprung into action, reaching the fight and removing Raphael from Leonardo, checking if the latter was alright.

"What the hell, Raph?" Donnie voiced, having skimmed Leo for anything serious and then looking at the second oldest as if he were a completely different person. The same gaze filled Mikey's eyes as he too stared at Raphael. Neither of them fully understood what had just happened, no one understood what had just happened…

Everything was clearing now, his jumbled mind could at last form a coherent thought and Raphael finally grasped the weight of what he had done. His head spun with guilt as he picked himself up and took a few shaky steps towards where his brother was now sat down and being tended to by the two younger men. A steady stream of blood flowed from his nose and a cut on his cheek, painting his pale face ruby red.

"L-Leo," he stuttered, confusion gnawing at him, "Fuck," he whispered lowly, looking at the ground in shame. He didn't know what to think or what to say; his heart was pounding feverishly, his head throbbing to the same rhythm. He had completely lost his senses, a primal part of him hijacking his actions and wreaking havoc.

"Just leave, Raph, please, you've done enough." The words pronounced by his older brother hurt more than any hit he had ever taken. They pierced through his hazy mind and struck him like a brick. Again, Raphael met Leonardo's blue eyes; they were dull, holding only a haunting, repulsive look.

Silently, the hot-head left, picking up and pulling on his discarded shirt before exiting the warehouse, going to wherever his legs would carry him.


	7. WWDK Chapter 7

Ruth sluggishly trudged into her apartment; her plan to find a cure for the constant ailment known as Raphael, or the thought of him, had failed miserably. The club she had checked out hadn't paid off in matters of men: none of them seemed to be able to push her mind's latest fascination from her attention. So, discouraged and tired, she abandoned her search and walked back to her flat.

Kicking off her heels and shrugging off her jacket, she slowly settled into the coziness of her small home. The march back had been lengthy as the cool night air bit at her bare legs. Just as she was going to fall onto her couch and watch a late night movie to decompress, her phone's ringtone blasted through the room. Groaning, she picked herself up to answer. She knew who it would be and, although she was excited to finally hear from them, she was not necessarily looking forward to the oncoming conversation.

"Hello?" Ruth answered, feigning ignorance.

"Cut the crap, Ruth, there's only one person who'd call you this late," answered the tenor voice, tinged with an english accent, on the other line.

"Well, a cordial _Good evening_ to you too, Adrian, and I'll have you know that I have many late night callers," Ruth joked sarcastically. A small chuckle emanated from her former partner and filtered through the phone's speaker, she could still humor him and break his strict and mean facade like she used to.

"You always have some kind of comment at the ready, don't you?" He asked amusedly.

"You know so." The smile on her lips seeped into her voice. Every time he called, it was like a breath of fresh air. She most definitely missed her favourite partner in crime and best friend. Ruth recalled all the eventful nights they had passed together, their shared time in the academy and the day they both graduated; Adrian was like her whole life wrapped into one person, they had spent years stuck to each other's sides, carrying out a multitude of operations like a well oiled machine.

"It's really weird not having you here," Ruth confessed.

Following their last assignment, Adrian had taken their director's offer on a promotion that would sweep him from the field and deposit him in a nice office. Now, he worked as a researcher and desk agent instead of undertaking the tasks they used to do as partners. Of course, as a good friend, Ruth had urged him to take the jump, even if it meant losing the closeness they shared; the duo no longer travelled and lived together for extended periods of time.

She heard him exhale ruefully. After a pause, he spoke again, although returning to the call's original purpose and swerving the present subject; he'd never liked expressing his feelings or talking about the choice he had made due to the consequences that accompanied it.

"You know why I'm calling."

"Of course I do, but that doesn't mean I want to talk about it." With him assuming his duties, this discussion was not going to be the relief Ruth was hoping for.

"You know that to do your job correctly, you have to report in after every mission, right?"

"I know, and I can do so by emailing."

"There's the problem though, you never email, so I'm ordered to call you."

"I don't see how that could be bad," Ruth replied. They didn't speak very often, so getting calls from him, even when they were business-oriented, was like a treat.

"Calling you is great, but not doing your job isn't," the Brit explained.

"Fine. I promise to send an email of a full, detailed report tonight."

"Good, now that that's cleared, the Boss thought it would be fit for you to receive a small surprise gift."

"How thoughtful of him." Sarcasm practically dripped and seeped with every word.

"You should get it by tomorrow morning," Adrian continued, ignoring her satire.

"Sounds good, but it's not a surprise anymore," she pointed out.

"Well, that's the price for not reporting in."

Ruth sighed, she had nothing more to say, but she didn't want to end the conversation. Adrian's presence, even if it was only the slight buzz emanating from the phone, was extremely comforting. Alone, ambling her small two-room abode in the middle of the night, she felt like a hermit, forlorn and desolate. The young woman stopped before a framed photograph resting on her coffee table. It depicted Ruth and Adrian, smiling like idiots for the camera. The picture had been taken on New Year's Eve at a party they had been attending; it was one of her favourites. Both looked full of joy, the weight of life itself temporarily lifted from their shoulders and forgotten. Adrian's full, boyish grin was on display and his deep brown eyes were crinkled at the corners; that's how she liked remembering him: happy, laughing and carefree...

"Ruth? Are you still there?" Adrian's questioning tore her from her reverie, causing her words of affirmation to stumble clumsily from her mouth when answering.

"Alright then, well, I have to go, duty calls." The young man announced after an elongated pause.

"Adrian, wait," she rushed, "I miss you." Tears blurred Ruth's sight as she continued dissecting the photo with a careful eye. It was ironic, in a bustling city, surrounded by 8 million people, she felt alone, her life-long friend no longer at her sides.

"I miss you too, Ruth, goodbye." With that, the line was cut.

Ruth quickly wiped the salty droplets from her eyes, refocusing her attention on the task she had been given: writing that report.

After a good hour of composing and encrypting it, she sent the dispatch away. Hopefully, it would placate her boss. With that done and the small swell of overwhelming emotion ebbing, Ruth decided that a good night's sleep would do her best.

When morning came, Ruth felt rested, her mind at peace. Her slumber had been dreamless and reenergizing, she felt rested and relaxed. Enjoying the warmth of her sheets and the comfort of her bed, Ruth decided that her day would be spent lazing in her apartment and abstaining from doing anything minimally productive or thinking of a particular green-eyed man. However, like a storm clouding a sunny day, her moment of lightness and elation was short-lived, remembering that she had promised to take over a coworker's shift at the diner, despite the fact that usually, Saturday was her day off. Granted, the extra shift only started at 1PM, but that didn't lift the damper on her mood: her plans to do nothing were obliterated.

In spite of the fact that the young woman had a couple of hours left before needing to leave her flat, she decided that showering and getting ready early would maybe put her in a better mood and motivate her for the day ahead.

Time flew by, and before she knew it, Ruth was ready to head out, already dressed in her uniform and on her way to the diner. About to take off and lock up, she almost made one with the hallway floor as she stumbled and lost her footing on a parcel left by her door.

Fortunately, she hadn't hurt herself when ungracefully collapsing. Picking herself up and cursing the delivery man for placing her package in such a careless and indiscreet position, she checked her watch; the young waitress still had a few minutes to spare. Grasping the box, she returned to her apartment and deposited it onto the kitchen counter. It had been sent from Berlin, where Adrian was stationed; it was surely the surprise gift from her boss.

Ruth carefully pried open the cardboard box, only to find a solid black case inside. Even before opening said case, she knew what it contained. Her excitement only grew and her mood changed for the better as she popped the clasps and opened the shell: she was more than pleased with what she saw. Breaking her appreciative gaze and glancing at her kitchen clock, she realised that she was running late. Knowing no one would enter her flat, Ruth left the open case on her counter and rushed to the diner.

Resting in the black caisson, like a treasured relic in a museum, was a mask. Two yellow filters protruding from the lower half gave the impression of a beast's snout; hollowed cheeks, like the forms of a barren skull, conveyed a ghostly appearance; a mirrored visor, black and opaque, left the assassin's victims with one last petrified view of themselves before their demise: it was the killer's new face and it would make its first appearance in a matter of days, hours, minutes.


End file.
